The More Things Change
by Divey
Summary: What would the descendants of the Mighty Ducks be like? Quick, musing story where possibilities are explored. (Ch. 2 added, and that's it. Honest.)
1. Drakewind

PG-13 because blood _does_ exist, darnit!

A/N: All righty, then.  Long time lurker here, but I've finally worked up the nerve to post something.  Everyone's written these really great stories, so I only hope I'm not degrading the content in any way.  *cringes*

Anyway, this idea was buzzing around my head for ½ hour before I couldn't take it anymore and wrote it down.  What _would_ the descendents of the Mighty Ducks be like?  What challenges would they face?  What had changed in the world?  …If anyone's had this idea and has written it down: Um… I'm sorry?  I tried to make this as original as possible, okay?  Hence the reason for: The Plot Twist! *dramatic music inserted here*  And, by the way, the timeline between the events is deliberately vague, b/c I'm well aware of the many plot holes that are in this.  Please be nice and ignore them?  *faint, wobbly smile*  As well, this is unbeta-ed, b/c my current beta-reader has NEVER seen this show.  Therefore, any mistakes are mine and mine alone.  *sighs*  I feel inadequate.

Also, I'm well aware of how easy it is to write Mary Sues and their equivalents.  For that reason, I tried to make all the characters as similar as possible to their ancestors.  Okies?  
Hope you enjoy!

Um…Quick notes on the fic:

"C.E." means Common Era (same numbering system though, just not as religiously biased, so that other religions don't feel shunned!  …Did that make sense?)

_'blah de blah blah'_ = thought

"Dragaunus" spelled like that, b/c I like it that way for some reason… *shrugs*

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE… 

**2976 C.E.**

_'The more things change, the more they stay the same,'_ mused Drakewind, as he slowly chopped vegetables in the kitchen.  Sighing, he turned and wondered at how they'd come to this point.  Were they doing the original team justice?  

It had been almost 950 years since the last of the Mighty Ducks had passed away.  In that last epic battle, the two opponents had gone head to head – with almost no survivors.  In fact, the fight – well, it had been more like a war – had exploded into such intense extremes that it had completely destroyed the city, not to mention the boundaries of the surrounding countryside.  

A noise from the next room jarred him out of his recollections.  A loud outburst from Saber as he mock battled with Natalie brought him sharply into the present.  Still cutting slowly, he glanced fondly into the next room where his teammates – his family – were engaged in various activities.  Of course, they weren't as perfect as the original team had been, but they'd gained a few skills for all they'd lost over time.

They were vastly different looking, for one thing.  In order to make them more "mainstream," the scientists who'd created the original descendants of the Mighty Ducks had decided to make them look more human. He knew they all still looked slightly exotic, of course.  The missing beaks had manifested themselves into longer noses and wider mouths, and their large eyes had shown up, too.  They still possessed stronger leg muscles than most humans, and still enjoyed winning a skating match.  Hockey flowed strongly in their blood, still, even after all this time.    Drakewind wasn't sure _what_ to think about that… 

Chrism, Grin's descendant, sat in the corner meditating.  Like his ancestor, his tall form literally bulged with muscles.  And yet, with his human body, he'd gained an increased flexibility, so that it now easier than ever to fold himself into those impossible yoga positions.  His black hair was pulled severely into a ponytail, but it flowed like water down past his shoulder blades.  Like Chrism himself, it was a study in contradictions.  It never failed to amaze him the raw power that lay under that calm exterior.

Tanya sat next to Chrism, using him as a pillow as she worked on their latest tinkering.  When she'd hit two years of age, it had been blatantly obvious that she was incredibly similar to the original duck, Tanya.  Thus, in the ritual naming celebration one year later, it had been with great pleasure that she'd been honored with her ancestor's name, honouring her vast intellect and kindness.  Her waist-length blonde hair sparkled as she gently brushed it out of her eyes in a distracted manner, patiently working.  

Saber, Duke's descendant, was mock-sparring with Mallory's descendant.  His slender form shook as he fought to contain his laughter.  Duke would have been pleased to see _both _brown eyes present and accounted for in Saber, gleaming with mirth.  Though easily amused, Saber was still their stealthiest member, and practically oozed rakish charm.  He was also a master at the sword – any type, really – and had, if anything, improved his thieving abilities.  Though it pained Drakewind to admit it, the descendants of the Mighty Ducks still fought evil, but they had needed to repeatedly use Saber's skills in the past.

Natalie, Mallory's descendant, fought with the finesse of her ancestor and still proudly held to the military regime.  Her crimson hair shone in its practical cut and her eyes, too, sparkled as she enjoyed the playful fight.  It had been ages since they'd truly had a chance to relax like this and Drakewind's teammates were taking full advantage of it.

It was no coincidence that most members tried to copy the characteristics of the original team.  After all, the original Mighty Ducks were the ideal – always triumphing against their opponents, showing mercy to both the deserving and undeserving – was it any wonder they all strived to reach that unattainable peak?  Their attempts had been noted by their community, and they were hailed with respect and admiration whenever they charged out to battle.  Civilians waved whatever they were holding and it was rare when fewer than 12 full humans would break into cheers as they passed.  Drakewind felt a touch of pride at that.  They might not have been as good as the original group, but they still did their best in their struggles.  Of course, there wasn't a choice.  When dealing with megalomaniacs, insane aliens, and world-conquering invader wannabes, the current team always had to win.  They just had to.

Drakewind's thoughts turned inward.  What of himself?  As official captain of the team, how did he stand up to Wildwing's ideal?  Well, Drakewind certainly tried to be logical and clear, and always attempted to be fair and objective in his judgment.  And of course, he held to the honour code – if someone said they'd do something, then Drakewind trusted they'd do it.  It was just the way he worked.  Still, he worried over things he couldn't change and heavily relied on his teammates opinions for the major decisions.  It was only fair.  They had always trusted him, so why shouldn't he trust them?  There was no reason – no _logical_ reason, he told himself.  All of the team had proven themselves loyal, time and time again.  In eight years together, there had certainly been many occasions for betrayal, yet there never had been.

As for the Mask?  Well, it was hard to use, physically.  When the scientists had formed their human bodies, they'd slipped up in not realized how necessary the Mask had been.    But for the Mask… with his human face, he couldn't use it, not really.  In order to compensate for this, Drakewind followed what his ancestors had done and had managed to somehow _tap into_ Drake Ducaine's precious Mask to see things and to analyze them.  The Mask itself was thus kept safely tucked away and Drakewind repeatedly thanked the Stars daily that it had been kept intact all these years.  What they would do without it…Well, they'd survive and keep going, of course, because they had no other choice.  But it would certainly be much, much harder…

Wildwing, Grin, Tanya, Duke, Mallory, Nosedive.  Drakewind, Chrism, Tanya, Saber, Natalie, and-

In the corner, Chrism shifted and opened his brown eyes.  Clearing his throat to get everyone's attention, he announced, "I feel ripples in the pool that is the collection of life and activity.  Someone will try something soon."

Drakewind grinned.  Of course, with his calm and ever-advanced mind, Grin's descendants were the first and still the best at channeling the spiritual energy from around them.  They could sense what was happening in the city, and while they couldn't pinpoint where, they were a type of advanced warning system upon which the team could always rely upon.

Still smiling, Drakewind exited the kitchen.  "Let's get ready then, team!"  Opening the door, he left the warm, sunlit area.  Time to get the missing member.

 * * *

Drakewind paused outside the door.  His body itself shivered, as always, yet he repressed the natural instinct and slowly entered.  His eyes quickly accustomed themselves to the dark room and quickly began searching for a mop of coppered hair.  As always, his body automatically tensed, reacting naturally to the presence of this one…

There.  A flash of red against the sofa.  Drakewind walked forward, studying the still form.  Was he…asleep?!  Drakewind suppressed the smirk of amusement that wanted to flutter over his face, and instead leaned in to get a closer view of the last member of the Mighty Ducks: Tsukiyo.

The descendant of Dragaunus.

His form sprawled across the couch as if it was his birthright, and hidden strength lay rippling beneath the ever-constant fighting outfit.  Red bangs brushed closed eyes, but Drakewind knew the minute the slitted eyes were opened, they would blaze amber with fire and bloodlust.

However unfortunate it may be, Drakewind also knew that Tsukiyo was a highly valuable member of the team.  He had, after all, access to the flow of Saurian dark magic, and the freakishly huge amount of strength still coursed through the body.  It was a good thing he was bound, utterly and completely, to the Oath and had thus helped them ever since they met.

Still, how had it come to this, where a Saurian was part of their team and Nosedive was not?  Unfortunately, Drakewind knew very well how.  It had all started when Canard had returned from dimensional limbo.  It seemed so obvious later on, but at the time, everyone had been so happy to have Canard returned to them that they hadn't noticed the crazed look in the eyes, particularly not when it was so well hidden.  After all, no one could really withstand the mind-warping effects of limbo, especially not for so long.  But for the next three months, it had been an immensely happy time.  With Canard back, Wildwing had assumed second in command and they'd worked harder than ever to capture Dragaunus until they'd finally – _finally_ – succeeded.  Of course, then the Mighty Ducks were faced with the dilemma: What did you do with an insanely powerful, crazed Saurian who'd murdered millions and slaughtered billions?  What did you do?  The answer had, of all things, come from Wraith completely by accident.  Wraith had muttered something under his breath about the "Code of the Bloodied Ancients" and Duke had overheard.  It turned out that the Code of the Bloodied Ancients was a feudally based, rarely used, supremely powerful oath that any Saurian, no matter who they were, could not - _would not_ – break.  Ever.

So they'd banished the others and had bound Dragaunus to the code, making him swear allegiance to Wildwing and his group forever.  That way, the main source behind Saurian attacks wouldn't be free to attack again.

Drakewind, 700 years in the future, shook his head in remembrance.  Generalizations had indeed saved the Mighty Ducks many times because they provided no loopholes, but "forever" was a long time.

Anyway, one year later, Canard had slipped up on the sane front he was presenting to the world and Nosedive had accidentally seen.  So, in one of the most callous, bloody moves in Puckworlder history, he'd subtly wrested control from Wildwing and ordered Dragaunus to kill Nosedive.  Dragaunus had no choice – nor did he really care– and had obeyed, tearing Wildwing's brother's heart out with a single swipe on a cold, rainy night.  In an abandoned alley, no less.

Wildwing's screams when he'd found out had torn the place into a frenzy of movement and accusations as Dragaunus had lounged in the corner.  After all, he had _only_ obeyed orders.  Eventually, though, Canard had been discovered as the murderer and had been sent away.  Before he'd teleported out, though, he'd grabbed a startled Dragaunus and had cackled gleefully as they both disappeared.

Five months later, a beaten and bloodied former Overlord had appeared on the Pond's front doorstep.  Dragaunus had only managed to growl something out about forbidden dark rituals before he'd died, and the Mighty Ducks had later found out that Canard had tortured the powerful Saurian to gain immortality.

Of course, with a heavy heart, they'd gone to face their former friend, only to discover that they _could not beat him_.  They'd failed at protecting humanity, and Canard assured them that Earth would bow to his every whim for all of time.  Desperate, the Mighty Ducks had turned to science, hoping that they, too, could somehow lengthen their lives to continue fighting against Canard.  The end result was the same, though.  The idea finally arose that if _they_ couldn't live longer, then they'd have descendants who could fight in their stead.  Quickly, DNA samples were taken from Wildwing, Duke, Tanya, Mallory, and Grin.  Out of pure scientific curiosity, a sample of Dragaunus' DNA was taken, too, and then all six samples were developed in an isolated, secret lab until they'd been needed to be put to use.

_'The rest, as they say,'_ Drakewind thought, _'was history.'  _Six months later, the Mighty Ducks had gone against Canard again, only to die nobly in a sacrifice for the world.  In their stead, six new champions had risen:  the descendants of the five heroes – and a humanized Saurian copy.  They, too, had fought, as had the generation after that, and the generation after that, and the generation after _that_, promising to battle Canard until he was vanquished.

Which brought them to the here and now.

Sighing, Drakewind reached out to gently shake the Saurian descendant awake.  A Saurian he may be indeed, but as long as they fought together, Drakewind considered them to be on the same side.

And the six of them, together, _would_ beat Canard and his lackeys.  They would – one bright, shining day in the future.

 * * *

A/N: *blinks*  Hmm… That didn't turn out the way I thought it would.  This was rather random and introspective, was it not? Drakewind babbles pointlessly. ^_^  Of course, I'm strongly tempted to write more on Dragaunus' descendant – maybe a short one from his view?  That might just be b/c I think it would be neat, so I'd really like everyone's opinions.  Okies?  *poutingly hopeful*

Anyway, opinions, ideas, suggestions, and random babble is welcome!  

Nosedive: Review!  Because she killed me off.  *sulks*

Wildwing: *grumbles* We weren't in this at _all_.

Mallory: *shrugs*  Meh!  Less torture for us!

Grin: … I have super powers. *superior smile*

Duke:  *blinks*  Did you just say something understandable?

Tanya:  *grins*  I'm cool enough to _honour_ someone with my name?

Nosedive: Hell-O!  Spotlight on me!  *shines flashlight on himself*  Right. Better.  As I was _saying_: Review, pretty please!


	2. Tsukiyo

**Mandatory (Annoying!) Disclaimer:** Mighty Ducks, etc etc, aren't mine. (Blinks) Wait! I CAN claim the concept for my characters! Happy dance! That is pretty cool... (nods to self)

THANK YOU! To my wonderful beta-reader (you know who you are!), who encouraged me, supported me, bore with me, and complimented the living daylights out of me (whether she knew it or not) - thank you! Without you, I would have never gained the confidence to actually write anything without tons of reviews. Thank you, thank you, and I hope your summer is as wonderful as you are!. 

**..........................................................**

**The More Things Change…**

**(Chappie Two!)**

2027 C.E.

"By the power vested in me as Drake Ducaine's descendant, I, Wildwing Flashblade, do formally bind you to the Bloodied Oath of the Ancients. As of this moment, you shall, above all else, serve and protect me and my … clan with every shred of your existence. You shall be bound to your lord in this life, in the next life, until your lives have run out and I release you from this Oath. Before the witnessing deities of both our worlds, do you hear and obey, vassal Dragaunus?"

Baleful eyes glared furiously upwards from the bent-kneed position, and sharpened teeth ground out the fateful words.

"I hear and obey, my lord Wildwing."

2976 C.E.

**..........................................................**

_Tsukiyo_

He distantly registered the presence of a soft, non-threatening pressure on his shoulder, and so Tsukiyo began the swim back into consciousness. Soon, reluctantly, he opened his eyes, only to stare at the enigma that was Drakewind.

What was it about this…being…before him? Certainly Tsukiyo could not figure it out. He'd tried and tried; yet all he could manage to find was a deep-seated, physically throbbing _need_ to be with this one. It was as if something inside would not let him go, would not let him escape from Drakewind's presence.

And yet.

And yet, casting his grim thoughts back into the avidly learned past, he didn't think anyone from his race had been happier. How odd. How perfect. How utterly and completely paradoxical. Who would have guessed? Who would have thought that Dragaunus' most hated adversary would turn into his descendant's most trusted comrade?

The friendship shown by Drakewind – and his little group of do-gooders, of course – was a nice gesture of pity. Otherwise, Tsukiyo was sure that he would have gone mad. After all, it wasn't possible to live in slavery, surrounded by contemptuous weaklings who should be obeying _his _orders and not the other way around.

On the other hand, it made it near impossible for Tsukiyo to hate the group as much as he knew he should. He was positive that the ultimate ancestor, Dragaunus himself, would not have experienced this odd sense of…belonging. The glorious Red Dragon would not have felt surges of affection for the Mighty Ducks who had surrounded him and captured him in their web of truth.

Or would he? Tsukiyo wasn't sure. When it came down to it, Drakewind was a diluted version of the original Wildwing, whose emotions and interactions would have been a hundredfold, nay, a _thousand _fold stronger to a reluctant Saurian overlord.

So, would Dragaunus have felt worry for those around him? Was Tsukiyo disgracing the Saurian Empire by living as he did? He prayed that he was not. The Saurian Empire was held on a pedestal to him. If Drakewind was the sun that he orbited, then the Empire was the moon. Just as the moon controlled the tides on this simple planet, so, too, did the Empire control his actions and deeds and thoughts. There had been so many nights where he'd stared, sleepless, at his silent ceiling, longing to return to his true home. He knew the Empire was out there, probably wreaking havoc on the chosen star system of the day. He could almost _taste_ the sweet scent of fear that would come from the hapless inhabitants. Better yet, he could almost feel the pulsing adrenaline that would course through his body after a delicious, hard-won fight…

The funniest thing was, though, that Siege's descendant had actually travelled from the Empire for him, not too long ago. The acting-prince had offered him joys unimaginable, pleasures insurmountable, if only Tsukiyo would rejoin the clan. Tsukiyo would resume his rightful place as ruler, the Saurian had said, and all Saurians would gladly follow him faithfully into the many anticipated battles.

Tsukiyo remembered that he'd stared in slack-jawed shock as all of his dreams had suddenly manifested themselves. He'd gone to move a foot forward, _only to find that_ _he couldn't._ The deep–seated throbbing had seared him to the side of an anxious, hovering Drakewind. The throbbing was the fealty of the Oath, he now knew. And as long as the Master lived, he could not leave. He would not leave. If someone physically branded him in order to mark him as the slave he knew that he was, well, that would just be gloating. Rubbing his face in the obvious filth.

And even if one Master died, there were four others to take the place as his Master, whether they knew it or not. And, Saints forbid, if they all died, there was Canard.

Blast it; there was _always_ Canard!

After all, Wildwing hadn't remembered to remove him from the Oath. Of course not, since he'd been too caught up in angsting and trying to defeat his former friend. Unfortunately, that left Canard as a technical member of the Mighty Ducks. Tsukiyo, therefore, had to obey him, no matter how much his heart screamed in denial.

It was not _fair!_ After all, the weakling Canard had _killed_ his glorious ancestor. Killed and murdered him in the most unfair, cruel manner imaginable. The forbidden dark arts were forbidden for a _reason;_ didn't Canard care?

Still, it gave him mild satisfaction every time the immortality of Canard was weakened. Oh, who was he kidding? It gave him a _huge_ satisfaction. After all, Canard had mispronounced one critical word, which left him vulnerable to physical destruction. One particularly unspeakable day, Tsukiyo had actually managed to gain the upper hand, and had spent _hours _dragging knives through the blood-splattered feathers and pulling various limbs apart. He was sure that the leg he'd thrown had broken some sort of record!

It was never enough, though. Not for all the humiliation he'd inflicted upon Dragaunus' bloodline through his cowardly action.

…and for the pain directed against the Mighty Ducks. Of course.

It was just a shame that Canard was always able to live on. Always, he would come back with that trilling, high-pitched laugh. Always, with his limited control of the Puckworld magic at his fingers, always with his devious plans, always with the promised pain and _agony_ for everyone…

And Tsukiyo knew, without a doubt, that Canard wouldn't waste a minute before branding him as his personal slave. To that, a shiver ran down his spine, and he unwillingly stuck out his tongue to express his complete disgust.

At least with Drakewind, he wasn't –

"Tsukiyo? You okay, buddy? You're usually racing to get the bad guys by now!"

All too late, Tsukiyo's eyes focused. With a sinking feeling, he realized that Drakewind had been talking to him all this time.

He was _still_ talking, Tsukiyo saw. He watched with an unwilling, increasing predator's awareness as Drakewind's lips moved in seeming slow motion. He gazed at the lips without really listening to what was being said. His stare drifted down to Drakewind's exposed throat, where the blood pumped and raced tantalizingly close to the surface. How easy it would be, he suddenly thought. How incredibly easy it would be to rip out his throat, to shred the skin, to taste this duck's essence, as pure and untainted that it was. To eat the quivering body, whose garbled screams would eventually be cut off when he reached the voice box, or the heart, or maybe the tender lungs—

But that was just the predator in him thinking. Tsukiyo knew he was above it. After all, he'd suppressed it for eight years in a row. What was the rest of his life?

All bemused, he watched as Drakewind suddenly rolled his eyes and pulled him to his feet. He was turned around and was slowly, but steadily, shoved to the doorway.

Siege, Wraith, Chameleon… Dragaunus would have torn their hearts out if they'd even tried this.

But Drakewind wasn't them. And he wasn't Dragaunus.

And Tsukiyo knew, without a doubt, that he'd never been happier. He allowed himself a grin as an increasingly exasperated drake's descendant pushed him forward.

Then, just because he could, he suddenly crouched and twirled, tripping Drakewind and then sprinting down the hall. He laughed out loud at Drakewind's familiar yell of mock outrage.

He might be a slave, after all, but he was also a friend of this group. And the latter would be defended to the death, so important was it.

And the six of them, together, _would_ beat Canard and his lackeys. They would – one bright, shining day in the future.

**..........................................................**

**A/N: **All done! Thanks again for reading - and reviewing! Hint. Hint. Hint. (Wicked grin) I think I'll eventually write a cute l'il story that tells of the equivalent to an MD eppie. (Grins some more) Angst, action and adventure shall abound! ... I'd love to put romance in it, too, but I can't decide for a pairing - they're all so cute!

And yes. I shall go to sleep now. (Saunters off)


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